Appreciation
by Caz Malfoy
Summary: Demon's lie. It's what they do. So why can't Sam stop thinking about what the shapeshifter said?


_Disclaimer: I don't own supernatural. I'm just borrowing the boys._

**THIS IS INCEST. IF THIS BOTHERS YOU, DON'T READ. FLAMERS WILL BE MOCKED.**

Author's note: Set after 'Skin'

Appreciation

"I gotta say, I'm sad I'm gonna miss it," Dean mused as he continued driving.

Sam frowned in confusion. "Miss what?" he aasked.

"How many times am I gonna get to see my own funeral?" Dean smirked over at him.

Sam couldn't help grin back at him as he rolled his eyes and turned his gaze to the window.

"Can we find a motel?" Sam asked, eventually after a few miles of silence. "Kicking the crap outta you has worn me out," he jokingly added.

"You'd better not get used to it," Dean grumbled, swinging the car around so that they were going in the direction they'd just come from. "There's no way you could beat me when a demon isn't wearing my skin."

"Where are you going" Sam asked.

"If you'd been paying attention," Dean rolled his hazel eyes, "You would have noticed that we passed a motel about ten minutes ago. God," he sighed.

When they arrived at the motel they were told that the only available room they had was one with bunk-beds. Dean had only accepted the room because he knew that Sam was right, they were both too worn out from the lack of sleep their most recent job had demanded.

"I get the top," Dean claimed the instant they set foot in the room.

"What?" Sam whined. "That's not fair. Why the hell can't I have it?" he demanded.

"Life's not fair, Sammy," Dean shrugged, kicking his shoes off. "And I get it because I'm older and better looking," Dean added, pulling himself up onto the bed.

Sam glared at Dean as the older Winchester put his hands behind his head and immediately fell asleep. Eventually Sam stopped glaring and set about getting ready for bed. He carefully slid Dean's hunting knife under Dean's pillow, knowing that the other man liked sleeping with the trusty knife where he could reach it.

It wasn't long before Sam had stripped down to his underwear and was climbing into the bunk below Dean's.

_There was something around his throat. Grasping tighter and tighter. Breathing was getting harder and harder. His lungs were burning with each rattling breath he tried to take._

_Soon it was all over. The demon was flat on his back, his - Dean's - eyes staring blankly at Sam. Sam swallowed thickly as the real Dean reached out and pulled his necklace from around shapeshifters neck, closing it's eyes as Dean stood up._

_Sam, however, couldn't take his eyes of the body that looked so much like his brother. He felt as though he were rooted to the spot. He knew it wasn't Dean but his eyes were telling him that Dean was lying dead infront of him._

Sam awoke with a start, looking around him widly as he gasped for oxygen. There was nothing in the room that appeared to be out of the ordinary. Everything seemed to be as it had when Sam had fallen asleep.

Sam sat up, cursing as he banged his head on the bed Dean was sleeping on above him. Why Dean felt the taller of the brothers should be squashed onto the bottom bunk, Sam had no idea.

Grumbling to himself he - carefully this time - climbed out the bed and headed into the bathroom.

As Sam stood in front of the bathroom mirror, looking at his reflection he couldn't help but notice how tired he seemed to be.

Sam lifted a hand to rub at his tired eyes and he stared down at it in disbelief when he saw that it was shaking uncontrolably.

_"You're brother's got a lot of good qualities." _The Shapeshifter-Dean's voice taunted him as Sam splashed cold water onto his face. _"You should appreciate him more than you do_."

Sam lifted his head and stared at his reflection. "I do appreciate him," Sam told him. Sam shook his head, telling himself that he shouldn't be listening to what a demon had said in an attempt to unnerve him.

Sam froze when he remembered that the demon had said he could see everything about Dean, all his inner thoughts and desires. "Get a grip, Sammy-boy," Sam told himself, glaring at his reflection in the mirror. "Demon's lie. It's part of their MO."

Sam mentally slapped himself and dried his face before heading back into the bedroom. There was no way he was curling up on the tiny peice of mattress that called itself a bed, instead Sam threw his lanky frame down into an overstuffed armchair and turned the tv on.

With the set muted, Sam couldn't really understand what was going on but it was only Jerry Springer so knowing that 'plot' of the show was the last thing on Sam's mind.

Sam was almost dozing off when he felt something smack him on the back of the head. "Dude, what the hell you doing up?" Dean asked grumpily, throwing himself into the armchair opposite Sam.

"What does it look like?" Sam retorted. "Watching television."

"Jerry Springer is worse for your brain than the stupid cartoons they make little kids watch," Dean informed him matter of factly as he snatched the remote and changed the channel.

"Yeah, because wrestling is so much better," Sam rolled his eyes, yawning as he rested his head on his hand.

After about twenty mintues Sam was beginning to fall back asleep. "You never answered my question," Dean said, once again waking Sam up.

"Huh?" Sam asked sleepily as his brain tried to register where he was and what Dean was talking about. "I told you," he continued once he remembered. "I was watching television."

"Sammy," Dean practically whined. "Why are you watching television at three in the morning?"

Sam paused, trying to figure out if he should answer Dean or not. "I couldn't sleep," he admitted.

"More nightmares?" Dean asked in concern.

"More memories," Sam whispered, rubbing his hand over his face. "It's amazing how much like you that Shapeshifter looked like you," Sam whispered.

"That's generally what shapeshifters do," Dean countered. "What's gotten into you?"

Sam turned his eyes away from Dean for a moment before he answered. "You do know I don't take you for granted don't you?" Sam whispered.

"What?" Dean asked in surprise.

"The Shapeshifter you said that I should appreciate you more," Sam answered.

Dean rolled his eyes, chuckling nervously. "That was a demon, Sam," Dean reminded him. "They lie, it's what they do."

"This one wasn't lying," Sam insisted. "It could see into your thoughts and it knew what you were thinking."

Dean stared at him for a moment before he decided that there was no way he could get out of answering Sam's question. "I know you don't take me for granted," Dean whispered, biting his lip.

"Then why do you think that?" Sam demanded.

"I don't," Dean assured him. "It's just..." Dean sighed, running his hand through his hair. "We don't really spend a lot of time together when we're not hunting and," Dean blushed, "sometimes it feels like you'd rather be alone infront of your computer than with me."

Sam looked at Dean in surprise before a small smile spread across his face. "You're the one that's always telling me to quit it with the girly crap," Sam reminded him.

"When did you ever listen to me?" Dean smirked.

Sam smiled and got up from where he was and crossed the room. "Well, I don't take you for granted," Sam assured him, sitting on the arm of the chair that Dean was sat in. "I appreciate everything you do for me. Including almost getting yourself killed on a regular basis."

"If you weren't so useless I wouldn't have to watch your ass all the time," Dean smirked, his eyes sparkling mischeviously.

"I thought you liked looking at my ass?" Sam grinned.

"Oh, I do," Dean replied, trying to grin back at him but a yawn broke though. "But I prefer it with no clothes covering it."

Sam rolled his eyes. He got up from where he was sat and dragged Dean over to the bed.

"Dude, there is no way I'm getting on that frickin' bottom bunk," Dean insisted.

Sam chuckled. "Well, if you wanna sleep alone that's fine by me, cos there is no way the top bunk is strong enough to hold the two of us."

Dean looked at Sam for a long time before he relented and climbed onto the bottom bunk, followed by Sam. The beds were so narrow that Sam had to practically lie on top of Dean to keep himself from falling off. But Dean didn't mind, instead he pulled Sam closer so that he could feel Sam's hot breath on his ear.

"Good night, Dean," Sam whispered, pressing a kiss on Dean's neck, just below his ear lobe.

Dean shivered at the contact. "Night," he whispered, bringing Sam's hand to his mouth and kissing his knuckles before he fell asleep.

The End


End file.
